


I Await a Guardian

by snapeislife (Horsy495)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mature Rating For Language And Themes, No Smut, Nonbinary Luna Lovegood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29165472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horsy495/pseuds/snapeislife
Summary: All is not well with Harry Potter. It has been years since the defeat of Voldemort, and yet Harry cannot find happiness in his life. Riddled with PTSD, depression and a growing dependency on alcohol, Harry is about to give up. But the powers that be have other ideas. Still tied to a promise to Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape is forced to come back to the land of the living as a guardian angel to Harry freaking Potter. At first convinced that he is in a specially personalized hell, Severus slowly starts to learn that perhaps this is not the worst arrangement after all.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 89
Collections: Snape Bigbang 2020





	1. So this is Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the title comes from the meaning of 'Expecto Patronum'. :)  
> Disclaimer: I think this fic will make it obvious where I stand on Rowling's beliefs... (Hint: they SUCK.)

Being dead was nicer than he’d expected it to be. It was vast. Empty. Comfortingly quiet. He didn’t see anyone he knew, which was a relief honestly. He wasn’t quite ready to face the ghosts of his life. It would probably take a few thousand years until he was. Until then, he was quite content with allowing the moments to pass idly by, with nowhere to be, nowhere to go and nothing to worry about. 

He was only slightly curious as to why no one had come for him yet, good or bad. 

He didn’t mind. 

After all he’d been through, he thought it was only fair that he should finally get some peace.

This thought had barely skimmed the surface of his mind when he spotted a dot at the end of the horizon.

No. No. NO. He did not want company. He just wanted to be left alone. 

As the dot became larger and larger, he felt a familiar sense of dread begin to gather in the pit of his stomach. (Did he have a stomach? It seemed so, somehow, even though he had yet to feel the slightest pang of hunger.) 

As the approaching figure came into clear view, he gave a loud groan, one he knew the other person would definitely hear. 

"Now, now, Severus. Don't be rude. Aren't you glad to see me, old friend?" 

Severus looked away from the hatefully familiar face, unsure of whether he would be able to keep back the stinging tears traitorously pooling in his eyes. (What the hell, why did he even have eyes? Or tears?)

"Severus." 

The other man's voice lowered to a gentler tone. 

Severus still didn't trust himself to speak. 

He stared into the distance, at the unending, purple-grey hills that were perpetually covered with mist. 

It was always the same time of day here. Just the edge of twilight, the exact moment when it was no longer day, but not the night yet either.

His visitor sighed, slow and mournful. 

"I'm sorry, Severus. I know that I'm the last person you would want to see here. But I was told to give you a message." 

Severus grit his teeth and angrily blinked away the tears.

He cleared his throat and turned to look at the features he had hoped he'd never have to see again, mostly because of the burning guilt and rage he knew would experience if he did. 

"A message, Albus?" 

A message from whom? 

"Yes, Severus. One of the angels gave it over to me, because they thought you would take the message better from someone who knew you."

Albus Dumbledore looked almost no different from his living self, except for his hands that were both a healthy peach shade, and he no longer wore spectacles. 

His outfit was not surprisingly a luxurious, brilliantly white robe with intricate golden embroidery. 

Severus rolled his eyes. 

"I knew it was too relaxing around here. What was the message?"

"They're- they're sending you back. I'm so sorry, Severus. But they say it's urgent. And- and you promised." 

"Back? Back where? What did I promise?! Haven't I done everything you asked of me?!" 

It was Dumbledore's turn to look away.

"They're turning you into an angel, Severus. A guardian angel."

Angel?!  _ Guardian angel?!!! _

Oh, so this was hell. 

"Severus, I'm so sorry, but you promised to protect Lily's son. It seems your conviction was so strong it's followed you here." 

The already sizable horror he had been feeling at the idea of being a guardian angel increased tenfold. 

"They- they want me to be Potter's guardian angel?! No! I refuse. I refuse- I will not-"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. 

Dumbledore watched him disappear without warning, leaving nothing behind but a single raven feather. 

"He can't be given a break, can he?" Dumbledore mumbled, regretfully.


	2. An Unusual Apparition

[Here is the beautiful art for this chapter, done by katherine1753](https://katherine1753.tumblr.com/post/642114192048095232/art-for-the-2020-snape-bang-for-snapeislife-d)

Harry was furious. Again. It wasn't a rare emotion for him to experience these days. 

It was all just so stupid.

So useless.

Pointless. 

He bit back a scream. 

Where had it all gone wrong? When had all his plans cascaded off a cliff, to be dashed upon the sharp rocks below? What had precipitated this horrible fall from grace? 

He should have had everything now. 

Should have been happily married, with kids, and his endless supply of money should have been spent on buying toys and clothes for them, not on this. 

Maybe that was the worst part, how the money never ended. 

His fortune was more than one irrevocably messed up young man could possibly spend in a lifetime. 

Harry had quickly given up on trying to stop what he was doing, even though he knew it was costing him his life.

It had taken Ginny from him. Ron and Hermione were too busy with their own little Rose and Hugo to realize just how deep he was. 

He hadn't spoken to either of them in months. Ginny still came by every now and then, with Luna, to make sure he was still alive and functioning. Harry was pretty sure they were dating now. He hoped they were. He had definitely not been the right one for her, but perhaps Luna was. 

Harry stared at the bottle in his hand. 

A sudden, powerful wave of hatred surged through him. 

He raised the bottle up and threw it, with all his might, at the wall in front of him. 

It shattered with a satisfying smash, blood red liquid splattering everywhere, as glass rained down onto the thick carpet. 

Harry stared, mesmerized, at the razor sharp, jagged edges of the shimmering pieces. They glinted, oh so tantalizingly in the flickering candlelight. Any inhibitions he may have had, had already been eroded by the alcohol. Harry reached out an unsteady, but decided hand for the nearest fragment. 

There was a deafening clap of thunder. 

Harry jumped unsteadily to his feet. 

It wasn't supposed to rain tonight, was it?

A blinding flash of lightning struck the floor with a resounding crash, right upon the spot showered with broken shards of glass. 

Harry blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the bright after image of the flash. He hoped the lightning hadn't set his house on fire. He could smell burnt wool and smoke, but didn't see any flames.

As his vision cleared, Harry stared at the spot where the lightning had struck, wondering if he was hallucinating. 

Harry was quite certain that he was merely drunk and not on drugs, right?

The apparition before him, though, seemed to be testing his knowledge of reality.

"You'd think they'd give you a bit more of a warning before they send you free-falling back to Earth, huh?" 

That voice- it couldn't be. 

"Wh-what the fuck-" 

"Language, Potter. I'm an angel now, wouldn't want to curse in front of an angel, now, would you?" 

Harry stared. 

_Severus bloody Snape_ was sitting cross-legged on his wine spattered floor, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was situated on quite an alarming amount of melted glass and burnt carpet. 

"Angel? What the hell are you going on about- holy shit- I need to get sober this minute- I've never hallucinated from alcohol before-" 

Harry stumbled backwards, trying to recall where he'd last placed the Sobering Solution. It was extremely unpleasant to use, and only meant for emergencies, but Harry was certain this was an emergency. 

"Oh, they gave me wings, nice." 

Harry heard a loud rustle, and suddenly, two huge, raven wings sprouted out of Snape's back, knocking over a coffee table and a large, ugly vase that Ginny had bought when they had first moved in. 

"Are you drunk, Potter? Why aren't you walking straight?"

Harry turned back around, certain that this was a sign that he really truly needed to stop drinking. 

"I am drunk, and hallucinating, I hope- I just need to get some Sobering Solution- and call Ginny or someone- I'm going to be ok-" 

"Potter, what are you on about?" Snape sounded exasperated. "I am not a hallucination, and trust me, I don't want to be here at all. But this seems to be my punishment, so I'm here to stay."

"Punishment? But you said- you're an angel now- unless-" 

Harry's tired, tipsy brain spun like a sneakoscope. 

"I gave you my memories, so I'm certain you're aware of the fact that I promised to protect you. It seems that even the fact that you're somehow still alive wasn't enough to fulfill the promise. Nope, I've become a glorified babysitter now. How many years have passed anyway? What even happened? How are you even alive?"

Harry shook his head, dazedly. 

"You didn't- didn't answer the question. Mmhm. Sir?"

Snape gave a loud sigh. 

"I'm your guardian angel now. Can you believe it?"

Harry's brain jammed. 

"G-guardian angel? I don't- I don't need a guardian angel- Voldemort's dead- there's peace now- the only thing I need guarding from is myself-"

Snape gave him an odd look. 

"Yourself? Aren't you living the life now? Rich, famous, and you mentioned Ginny- are you married now? Have you got any mini Potters to chase around the house, because I tell you right now, I refuse to protect your spawn."

Harry took in a shuddering breath. God, this stupid hallucination was cruel. He didn't bother to wipe away the few tears that escaped his eyes. It was just his own mind playing games on him, wasn't it? How else did this hallucination know exactly what to say that would hurt the most?

"Shit, was that a sore spot?"

Harry couldn't help laughing bitterly. 

"I thought you said angels don't curse."

"I said you wouldn't want to curse in front of one, would you? Which is bullshit. If they wouldn't allow me to curse, I would just fly off to Jamaica to have a grand time, because no way am I listening to anything they would want me to do."

Harry slowly slid down to join Snape on the floor. 

If this was a hallucination, might as well just sit it out.


	3. Impromptu Therapy Session with the Dearly Departed

"And then I said- I said to her- 'This is the only thing that stops the pain'- and then- then she left- just- just clean got up and left... I- I think she's dating Luna now-"

Harry hiccupped.

It seemed like using this hallucination as a therapist was working out just fine, especially because of the faces it made at certain things Harry said.

Like right now. 

"Dating Luna? As in Luna Lovegood?!" 

Harry nodded drunkenly. 

"Is funny, innit? They kinda do match though-"

Snape looked completely flabbergasted. 

"Maybe this isn't Hell, but just a really elaborate heavenly prank," he muttered. 

Harry laughed hoarsely. 

"You're a very good hallucination. Enter- entertaining."

Snape gave him the familiar old glare. 

"I told you, Potter. I am no hallucination. I'm starting to wish I were though. Your life is depressing. And dull." 

Harry laughed again, bitterly this time. 

"It is, isn't it? It's a flaming trash heap. Load of dung this lousy life is." 

Harry picked up the new bottle he'd Summoned and took a long swig. 

Snape was still glaring at him. 

"Stop drinking, you idiot. I'm supposed to be watching over you, so I suppose I need to say that before you poison yourself."

Harry felt the bottle fly out of his hands and away onto the mantelpiece. 

"H-hey- gimme back my wine-"

He stretched out his arm uselessly.

Snape rolled his eyes. 

"You never cease to amaze me with the depths of your asininity."

Harry slumped down over his knees. 

"I need it- it's like I told Ginny- is the only thing that helps- otherwise- everything comes back and- and- I can't do this!" Harry felt the floodgates open, tears streaming down his face, into his mouth and onto the carpet. "I'm u-useless now! Got- got no reason to keep living! So many people dead- all for me, in- including you! Why am I even still alive?"

Snape blinked. 

This was not what he'd expected. Although it was starting to become clearer to him why the boy might need a guardian angel. Although a therapist would probably have been a better choice. 

"I don't know why they assigned me this job, Potter. I am not a therapist, and you most definitely need one." 

Harry hiccupped loudly. 

"No, no, no. I've tried. The wizarding therapists are shit. And the muggle ones don't understand. I can't tell them the full story, just bits and pieces. And- and I guess they're missing a big piece of the puzzle." 

"And what's this big puzzle piece? Magic? Voldemort?" 

Harry sighed, and absentmindedly picked up a piece of twisted glass from the burnt carpet. 

Snape wondered if he could fix it, and suddenly the wool was clean and the overpowering smell of smoke vanished. 

"Huh. Was not expecting that," he muttered. Then said, "The puzzle piece, Potter?"

Harry turned over the twisted glass in his hands nervously. It was too warped to cut him, so Snape decided not to bother with removing it from his grasp. 

"It's about my childhood. I- I couldn't tell them about it. Never built up enough rapport."

Snape stiffened. 

The snippets of Potter's childhood that he'd gleaned from the Occlumency lessons had already given him suspicions that Potter's background wasn't quite as rosy as he had first thought. 

He steeled himself, knowing that he was about to get very, very angry. 

Harry didn't seem to notice anything. 

He was speaking as though lost in thought, his eyes far away and glassy. 

"I thought I deserved it at first, you know. I thought I must have done something bad, something terrible, and that Dudley was somehow better than me. That being given attention, or even a meal came with a price and Dudley had more of that currency than me." 

Tears glittered in Harry's bright green eyes again. 

"It took me a bit to get that the kids in my school had it different at home. That they were treated well even if they messed up breakfast, or didn't weed the garden properly." 

Snape didn't want to interrupt, because Harry looked like he really needed the catharsis, but this was too much. He felt a rising wall of rage starting to spread through his body like wildfire. Harry couldn't have been talking about himself as an older kid, because he had spent his teenage years at Hogwarts. This meant he was describing a child under the age of eleven thinking like this.

"I am going to murder Petunia- what the hell am I hearing?!"

Harry gave a watery laugh. 

"You're hearing about my fucked up childhood."


	4. Wallowing in the Past

Harry eventually tired himself out talking, and fell asleep with the bottle still mostly full in his arms. 

Severus took that as a small victory, but he knew he had quite a lot more to go to patch up this broken man. 

He watched Harry for a few moments, fascinated by how Harry was able to fall asleep while leaning against the wall in such an uncomfortable position. 

And then he realized that he could start off Harry's rough journey towards healing by at least getting him into a comfortable bed. 

He sighed loudly. 

What a wonderfully ironic hell this was going to be. Whoever was keeping the tallies up there knew exactly what they were doing. 

A thought and suddenly, Harry was in soft, emerald green, silk pajamas, and Severus blinked, still unused to the new power he had been given. 

He glanced warily at the fully repaired carpet, then stood up to figure out where exactly this comfortable bed he was going to deposit the boy into was. He couldn't stop the groan that escaped him when he realized what house he was in. 

This was Grimmauld Place. 

Why the hell was Potter living here now? He was rich enough to find somewhere better, no?

Severus took in a deep breath, then left the living room to find out which of the many bedrooms Potter now called his own. 

After only a bit of poking about, he discovered to his dismay, that Harry was as predictable as always, and had chosen Sirius Black's old room to be his. 

Of course he was in such a bad place mentally. 

The kid had no concept of "letting go of the past". 

Severus resolved to convince Potter to at least switch his bedroom to a less triggering spot, if not to leave this house to rot altogether. 

But at the moment he had a more pressing matter to deal with, which was making sure Potter did not wake up with the most sore back he would ever experience in his lifetime. 

Severus gloomily made his way back to the living room, and paused in front of the sleeping form on the floor. 

"You stupid, stupid boy," he whispered, as he gently eased Potter up from the floor so as not to wake him. He carried him to Black's old bedroom, and placed him carefully on the unmade bed. He pulled the blanket over him, but stopped himself from tucking in the edges. He wasn't Molly Weasley, for Merlin's sake.


	5. A Unfamiliar Pair of Pajamas

Harry woke up groggily to a killer headache and the tantalizing scent of bacon and eggs. 

"Ginny?" he mumbled. Wasn't she supposed to come next week? There wasn't anyone else who could be cooking breakfast. Harry had set Kreacher free about a year ago in a drunken haze, and besides, Kreacher had been getting too old to hold a tea kettle. Harry was used to cooking and cleaning, and had found that it was one of the few things left that he was actually useful for.

Harry tiredly drew back his blanket and slid unsteadily out of his bed, blinking in the bright sunlight streaming through his open curtains. Why were his curtains open? He always closed them at night. Maybe Ginny had guessed he was hung over and wanted to annoy him?

He stumbled to the door and out into the landing before he noticed that he was wearing a pair of pajamas that he had never seen before. It was incredibly comfortable and a beautiful shade of green. The color jogged his foggy memory back to the events of last night. He didn't remember all of it, only that he had started hallucinating and-

Harry paused, running a hand over his silk covered arm.

Had he went right around the bend and gone straight to insanity?

"Ginny?" he called again, a little louder this time. "Ginny, aren't you supposed to come next week?"

"I am not Miss Weasley, you daft idiot," snarled a completely impossible and irritable voice. "Get over here and eat breakfast. Or more accurately, lunch. It's nearly one in the afternoon."

Harry felt his jaw drop.

He clambered down the stairs, swaying slightly as his head spun. He could really use a glass of water right about now. 

He staggered into the kitchen, and once again was met with the absurd apparition of the night before, only now it was holding out a plate of bacon and eggs to him.

"You probably want water first, actually." 

Severus (fucking) Snape held out a glass of water to him, even though Harry was quite certain he had not had one in his hand a second ago. 

He accepted the water, gulped it down, and then whispered, "Fuck, I really am losing it, aren't I? Still hallucinating, and I'm definitely sober now."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a hallucination?! Would you like a punch in the face to prove it?" 

Harry shook his head quickly, although Snape looked like he was about to punch him either way. 

"It's ok, sir- I'm sure I can figure it out some other way. Like by eating that bacon." Harry grabbed the plate and sat down at the large wooden table to eat. He took a bite. It was actually good, which did not surprise him. What did surprise him was the fact that the bacon was there at all. "This is actually really good, and I don't want to sound rude, but why did you make breakfast for me? You didn't have to."

Snape gave him one of his signature scowls before answering. 

"I have literally nothing better to do with my time. I tried to leave the house but it seems I'm stuck within about thirty feet of you in all directions. I had all night and morning to test it out. Turns out, guardian angels can't sleep." He looked immensely disgruntled by this. 

Harry wasn't sure what to say to this. 

"Oh," was about all he could manage. 

"Why the hell give me wings and then not even allow me to fly a few feet past the roof?!" 

"That sounds unfortunate, I'm sorry, sir," mumbled Harry, then hesitantly took another bite of bacon. 

"The worst part is that it feels like dying all over again any time I hit the invisible barrier! Why!!! Just a zap or even a force field would do!" 

Harry nodded sympathetically, his mind once again starting to doubt what his senses were telling it. He merely focused on polishing off his breakfast, as slowly as possible. 

"I know you're eating slowly so you can avoid talking to me, Potter, I'm not stupid," said Snape, leaning against the ancient cabinets. His wings brushed against an empty copper pitcher and knocked it to the ground. He glared at the pitcher, as if it had personally offended him. "I also now have a pretty good idea of what I'm supposed to do here, so I'll start by giving you some space to come to terms with the fact that you're stuck with me for the unforeseeable future." With that said, he stalked out of the kitchen to go haunt some other spot of the house.


	6. There's No Need to Call Me Sir

It took Harry about two hours to come to terms with what Snape had told him. Most of that time was spent taking a very cold shower and sitting on his bed staring out the window into his muggle neighbor's yard. 

Harry pinched himself numerous times, kicked his nightstand and stubbed a toe, then headed back into the kitchen where Snape had returned to as well. The cantankerous angel was sitting on the floor, leaning against a cupboard with his arms crossed sullenly. 

"Umm. Hi, sir," said Harry awkwardly, not quite certain what to do. He sat down on the nearest chair, still not feeling too reliant on his feet. 

"No need to call me sir, Potter," said Snape, smirking. 

Harry gave a reluctant grin, trying not to think too hard about anything that was happening to him today. Even his throbbing toe hadn't completely convinced him that he wasn't actually hallucinating. 

"So- so what are you doing here then- uh-?" Harry didn't know how to refer to him now and his sentence felt wrong to his ears. 

"For fuck's sake, Potter. Just call me Severus or something. It doesn't matter anymore." Harry nodded uncertainly, waiting for Snape to continue, but Snape was staring at the floor, and didn't seem about to elaborate. 

"Ok, uh. You still haven't told me what exactly you're here for." Something told Harry that Snape had told him last night but last night's memories were very hazy and under no circumstances a reliable source of information. 

"I told you last night but you were probably too inebriated to recall what I said at the time. I'm here to be your guardian angel, because apparently I haven't suffered enough watching over you when I was alive," said Snape bitterly. 

It took Harry a bit faster this time to come to terms with that particular bit of information. 

"Why- why do I require a guardian angel?" Harry was starting to vaguely recall some of what had occurred last night, including what he had nearly done. "Was it because of-" Harry couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He didn't want to break down before Severus Snape, at least, not sober. 

"I said this last night but evidently you do not recall it. I think what you need is a therapist, not a guardian angel. I don't know how to help you, Potter. I only know that I have to somehow," replied Snape, looking surprisingly frustrated by the idea. 

Harry looked up at the ceiling, not trusting himself to look Snape in the eyes when he said, "I'm sorry I've dragged you back into my miserable life. I don't even want to be here."

"Well, that's an all too familiar feeling for me, hence why I have no idea how to help you," replied Snape, incredibly candidly. "I can say one thing that might help a little, though."

"And that is?" Harry asked, curiosity piqued. 

"You need to move out and sell this damn house, or burn it to the ground. How can you expect to heal from the past in a place that's soaked with it?"


	7. A Fresh Start

Harry started renting an apartment in London, not too far from Grimmauld Place. He wasn't ready to fully part with the house yet. As he finished setting up the apartment and moving in, he immediately felt a profound sense of relief. He hadn't noticed how much Grimmauld Place had been weighing on his psyche. The fact that it had been Snape to suggest the move surprised him. Why hadn't any of his friends thought to make him move when they noticed the slippery slope he was sliding down? Perhaps they had thought he was too attached to the house to leave it, and in the beginning they would have been right. But by now, it sometimes scared him how little he cared about almost anything anymore. He felt adrift, as if he were in a raft out on the ocean, and he didn't care. Emotions rarely managed to reach him all the way out there, except for the negative ones. Those were like sharks circling his raft, always there, always lurking. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt genuine, visceral joy. 

Harry sat down on his new bed, with brand new, freshly laundered linen and took in a deep breath. The room smelled clean and pleasantly citrusy from the floor cleaner. 

Harry had chosen an apartment with large windows and space, which hadn't been easy to find. He listened to the bustle of the city outside, for a moment feeling content. 

"Feels nice, doesn't it? Change of scenery?" 

Harry turned to where Snape sat in the corner on a black leather wingback chair. 

"Yes. Yes, it does." Harry ran his hand over the soft bedspread. "I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner."

Snape shrugged.

"It's hard to see the way out when you're stuck right in the middle of the thing."

********************

Harry decided to make a housewarming party with his closest friends in an attempt to make his new apartment feel more like home. He of course invited Ginny and Luna, and decided to invite Ron and Hermione, too. He hadn't seen them in far too long. 

Snape surprisingly didn't seem very bothered by the fact that Harry was going to be inviting over all of his certainly obnoxious Gryffindor friends. 

"I'm curious to see how they're doing, I haven't seen them since they were what, sixteen? And it's not like I have any say over who comes here. I'm just a guest," explained Snape, when Harry teased him about this as he helped set the table for dinner. 

Harry grinned. 

"I don't know if I'd call someone who fell out of the sky into my living room unannounced a guest.... more like a trespasser," Harry quipped, pulling on the corner of the table cloth to even it out. 

"Oh, and just a reminder, they probably won't be able to see me, so you may want to practice not talking to me for a bit. Unless you want them to think you've gone absolutely spare, of course. You may even start now," said Snape, his eyes doing something that looked suspiciously like twinkling. 

Harry stared at him.

"Wow, death really does funny things to people, huh," Harry muttered. 

"I've always had a great sense of humor, Potter, you've just never appreciated it," replied Snape, his dark eyes now definitely doing something akin to laughing. 

Harry felt his stomach flip oddly. 

He pulled at the tablecloth again, ignoring the fact that the corners were all even now. 

"I've got to take the turkey out of the oven," he said, and turned around to leave the room. 

Once he was in the kitchen, he took in a deep breath, taking in the mouthwatering scent of roast turkey and freshly baked blueberry pie. Snape had helped prepare dinner, claiming extreme boredom in this apartment with approximately three books, one of which was about Quidditch. 

Harry carefully took the turkey out of the oven. He suddenly found himself feeling excited about seeing his friends. He hadn't felt excited about anything in quite some time. 


	8. Housewarming

Ginny and Luna arrived first, arms linked, noses and cheeks equally pink from the cold outside. 

"Oh, something smells absolutely wonderful, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. She strode into the apartment, checking out all the new furnishings and the huge bay windows that opened to the quiet street. During the night there was barely a single soul to be seen on this block. 

"Why do you have such a huge bookshelf for only three books, Harry?" Luna asked, airily. "Would you like me to recommend some books to fill it with? I've even got some at home that I've been thinking I need to clear out."

Harry blinked. He hadn't even bought a bookshelf and had no recollection of it existing. Besides, that wall hadn't been that wide, had it? It took all his willpower not to turn around to glare at the angel sitting in the corner on the floor to avoid being stepped on by an unsuspecting guest.

"Uh, yeah, I've been thinking I should read more. Feel free to bring over the books anytime," he told Luna, if only to give Snape something to do instead of hanging around, grumpily rustling his feathers. 

Harry thought he heard a small, "Thanks," from the corner, but could not be certain. 

Just then, a knock came from the front door and Harry opened it only to be attacked by two long arms wrapping around his neck, nearly strangling him. 

"Hey, mate, haven't seen you in years it seems! I must have inherited something from my mum, because you're looking awful underfed and I have a sudden urge to stuff you with food," Ron greeted him jovially. Being a dad and a husband really seemed to suit Ron well. He was bright eyed and ruddy, with a neat ginger beard on his chin beneath a large, toothy grin. 

Harry turned to Hermione and embraced her. He found that he rather liked her wild curls better than the tight bun she was wearing tonight. 

"This apartment looks so nice, Harry!" Hermione said, handing him a warm casserole filled with some kind of quiche.

"Oh, you didn't have to bring food," said Harry, smiling at her.

Hermione shook her head, laughing lightly. 

"I always bring food to such events, it's only polite."

"Yeah, Harry, and trust me, you want to eat that quiche, it's out of this world," added Ron, flinging his arm across Hermione's shoulder and beaming at her.

Hermione shrugged. 

"It's pretty hard to mess up a recipe this easy. At least the kitchen is still standing. Believe it or not, Harry, Ron is actually the better cook in our household," she said proudly. 

Harry laughed. 

"Guessing he got that from his mum as well," he said. His heart was filling with warmth at the sight of his two best friends, although he couldn't totally ignore the pang of loneliness caused by seeing the happy couples. "Come, let me show all of you my new apartment." 

Harry led the small group through the spacious apartment, letting them ooh and ah over his large kitchen and king sized bed, while he drank in the simple joy of being around his friends again. The melancholy was still there, deep down, but this at least softened the edge. 

"What have you been up to, Harry?" Hermione asked him as they finally sat down around the table in the dining room. "I see you've got a large bookcase now, I'm certain I can recommend a few good volumes!"

Harry inwardly sighed. Someone was going to get a good talking to about communication instead of just springing huge bookcases on him that made all his friends think he was suddenly getting all scholarly. He also wasn't quite sure what to tell Hermione he 'd been up to.  _ "I've been drinking myself into oblivion to run away from the mess I've created from my life," _ did not sound like a good conversation starter. 

"Uh, I haven't been doing much, to be honest. I figured being an Auror wasn't for me, it's just so much extra schooling," he decided to say a partial truth. 

"Hmm, I guess it's not like you need the salary anyway," said Hermione, looking around the apartment. 

"Yeah, but I'll probably look into some sort of work just to pass the time. It can get kind of boring."

Hermione tilted her head and looked at the ceiling contemplatively before returning her gaze back to Harry.

"I guess. If you want any Ministry positions that require less post-secondary education you can definitely speak to me or Percy about it," she told him.

Harry shook his head. 

"Thank you for the kind offer, but I just don't think I'm cut out for paperwork," he said, trying not to hate himself for being so damn lucky and still unable to find a smidge of pleasure in it. 

Luna chose that moment to chime in with, "Have you thought about becoming an owl trainer? I've heard it's really wonderful. Owls are such intelligent creatures."

Harry could swear he heard a snort come from the corner. No wonder Snape hadn't complained about this, this was probably the best entertainment he'd had in a while. 


	9. Sometimes the Mind is Like a Book to be Read at Leisure

After the party was done, and all the guests had left, Harry found himself cleaning up with Snape at his side. 

Snape seemed oddly conflicted. He looked like he very badly wanted to tell Harry something, but was trying to stop himself by sweeping the floor when Harry knew a snap of his fingers could make it clean enough to eat from. 

"Ok, you look like you've got something to say, and it seems like something bigger than 'sorry about the bookcase,'" Harry told him sternly. 

"Oh, I'm not sorry in the slightest about the bookcase, I'm actually quite proud of it. But-" Snape looked back at the front door. "Harry, when was the last time you've had a real, deep meaningful conversation with any of your friends?" 

Harry paused, taken aback by the sincere use of his first name as much as he was by the question. 

"I- what do you mean by real, deep meaningful conversation?" Harry asked, unsure whether to sound offended or just confused. 

"I think you should have a talk with your friends.... you're not the only one going through some hard things. You shouldn't be doing this alone," said Snape quietly. 

Harry raised his eyebrows. This was not what he'd been expecting. Although, to be fair, he hadn't known what to expect. This was Severus fucking Snape after all.

"What makes you say that? How do you know?" Harry felt so curious it almost burned. 

Snape sighed. 

"I've discovered that just by wondering what someone's thinking..... I can suddenly hear their damn thoughts, and those are much clearer than any sort of Legilimency."

Harry felt something akin to horror flash through his entire being. 

"Have you been listening to mine?" He tried to sound calm and composed, but was quite certain he was failing miserably. 

"Oh, I don't have to wonder what you're thinking, generally your emotions are plastered on your forehead loudly enough. I'm talking about your friends whom I can't read quite as well." 

Harry wasn't sure if this statement made him feel any better. 

"Well then, what did you hear?" Harry deflected the conversation away from the topic of his thoughts. 

Snape traced his thin lips with his forefinger, a habit Harry suddenly recalled from a distant Occlumency lesson. It seemed to be a tic that transcended death, and was weirdly humanizing, almost bordering endearing.

"It isn't really my place to say these things. You must discuss it with your friends yourself. Besides, they would probably find it creepy that you can suddenly read minds. Trust me, I know that people hate the feeling." 

********************

It had all started with Hermione looking tired.

Severus had thought absent-mindedly, "She looks exhausted, I wonder what she's thinking."

And then out of nowhere, he started to hear, Hermione's voice in his head mumbling, "I'm so tired. Why am I always so exhausted and unhappy? I am living the life I want, with the person I chose, with two healthy children and an excellent career. Why can't I just feel happy?!"

It was almost word for word the repetitive mantra ringing through Harry's drunken speech the first night Severus found himself on Harry's living room carpet, sitting on a pile of glass.

Severus couldn't help the burning curiosity. What were Harry's other friends thinking? Was Harry not as alone as he felt?

Ron's thought process wasn't too surprising. A barrage of self-deprecating, hateful inner dialogue, disparaging his choice to work for George instead of working for the Ministry like his mum wanted, a constant stream of, "You're not good enough for Hermione, she's too smart, too beautiful, too talented. You're just holding her back. Why did she ever want to marry such a dead weight who is just wasting her time?"

Even Luna was worried about not being the right one for Ginny and wondering if Ginny would leave like most people eventually did, and Ginny was worrying about Harry slipping down his dark path of alcoholism and depression while feeling helpless because she could not begin to imagine how to help him.

Not to mention the underlying current of all of them thinking, “There’s finally peace and Voldemort is dead, so why do I still feel so on edge?”


	10. The Mortifying Ordeal of being Known

Harry took a deep breath before answering the door. He had thought that it would be a good idea to see his friends more often, if only to hold off the crushing loneliness.

Weirdly enough, Severus of all people was actually helping a lot with that.

It was kind of nice to have someone to talk to all the time, who passed no judgment if Harry decided he needed some space instead. But Harry found himself needing less space, and more distraction, for it seemed distractions helped, at least for short term relief. There was still a lot more to go.

Severus was keeping him sober by hiding all the alcohol and sleeping potions to be found, saying that as tempting as it was to fall into addiction, it would not solve Harry's underlying problems.

Severus was a little too knowledgeable on how to handle alcoholics experiencing withdrawal. It made Harry wonder if perhaps someone Severus had been close to had gone through the same thing. When asked, Severus had admitted that his father had been a raging alcoholic who would when unable to procure alcohol sometimes behave even worse than when drinking. Harry's heart ached as he put together the vague snippets he knew of Severus's childhood and found a pretty grim picture indeed. A lot of Severus's past behavior in his lifetime made more sense, especially now that Harry could relate a lot more to much of it.

Harry shook his head slightly to clear it. Recently, his thoughts had been going through periods of intense spiraling and then total radio silence.

He finally opened the door.

His friends filed in, each greeting him with a smile and some with hugs or pecks on the cheek. Harry couldn't help smiling back.

Once they were all seated comfortably on a mismatched variety of armchairs, sofas and the floor, Harry cleared his throat to catch his friends' attention.

"I... I have an idea. I've been thinking lately that...." this was quite hard to say somehow, "I've been thinking that I don't feel as close to you all as I used to. We used to see each other all the time, we went through a lot together and... and I want us to meet more often. I miss you.

And it's a bit more than that." Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself for the next sentence. "I want us to talk to each other. Not just about the weather or how are the kids, but I want us to be vulnerable with each other. I know it can't be that I'm the only one with nightmares, or survivor's guilt. I just- I think we could all use some group therapy. I guess."

Harry saw Severus grin in the corner at the term "group therapy."

He looked away quickly. He wasn't ready to tell his friends about that particular apparition yet, and especially not any of the complicated emotions it gave him.

To Harry's surprise, it was Hermione who first stood up.

"I think you're right, Harry. We need this. We've been through something very traumatic and it's not the kind of thing we can discuss with muggle therapists. I will personally volunteer a vulnerable moment of my own, and I think we all should. This way, we can all open up more with each other."

Harry blinked. That actually sounded like a good idea. Good old Hermione and her lightning fast problem solving brain.

Hermione bit her lip, then drew herself up to her full height.

"I sometimes despair at the amount of work the Wizarding World needs. I know that Voldemort was not created in a vacuum, and some nights I stay up all night wondering when the next Voldemort will show up and destroy everything I'm trying to build in the Ministry."

Hermione said all this very quickly, and then sat back down onto the couch, her cheeks rather pink.

Harry nodded.

"Thank you for sharing, Hermione. Here's my vulnerable moment. Ginny and Luna already know this but I didn't want to bother you and Ron about it because I thought you had enough on your plate already with the kids. I- I've been drinking. I started it because of the nightmares and the guilt and the flashbacks. It was the only thing that properly numbed all the pain, besides for sleeping potions. I've- I've been taking too much of those, too. I- I've been better lately," Harry gave a sheepish grin at the angel sitting in the corner, "but I still think you guys should know."

"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry you thought you couldn't tell us. You can always talk to us, you're family, too!" Hermione immediately exclaimed. She reached over and grabbed his hand.

Harry felt his eyes fill with tears. He had forgotten how wonderful it was to be called someone's family. He hadn't heard it in a while.

"Thank you,” he said, his voice feeling a bit too thick from emotion.

Ron cleared his throat.

"I- I uh, I think it's time I admitted to having a bit of a similar problem with the drinking. Both the alcohol and sleeping potions. I just- I have so much on my mind all the time. I want it to stop making noise sometimes," Ron mumbled, his words tumbling out rapidly as if saying it faster would make it easier.

Hermione looked a bit surprised.

"I- I hadn't noticed-" she whispered. "It definitely hasn't interfered with work or your family. I can help you with it, though! And I think Harry can, too. How about you check up on each other and make it a buddy system? I think that's a pretty popular idea in the muggle world."

Ron looked shocked that Hermione had taken it so well.

"Merlin, you really are the most wonderful woman on the planet. How the fuck did I get so lucky?" Ron threw his arms around Hermione and kissed her hard.

Ginny coughed loudly.

"Ahem, whenever you two are done making out I have my own thing to say."

Ron and Hermione pried themselves apart with apparent difficulty.

Ginny stared at her fingernails and picked at her peeling red nail polish nervously.

"I came out to Mum the other day. She… did not take it too well. I think she was upset about me breaking up with Harry and all, and I'm sure she'll come around but- but it hurt. More than I thought it would. I mean, I expected it to happen, the Wizarding world is pretty behind on such matters-" Ginny's voice broke.

Luna wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders.

Harry felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

"Shit, Ginny, that's horrible. I will have to give her a stern talking to, that's completely unacceptable," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He did not dare look at the corner.

"Dad of course took it a bit better. He did say he would talk to Mum. I do think it will take some time and she didn't say anything too horrible- mostly just- 'I can't believe this is happening to me!' And 'How could you do this to Harry?' As if it's my fault!" Ginny swiped at her eyes angrily.

Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"I really need to talk to her and knock some sense into her!" he exclaimed, horrified. “It was a mutual agreement to break up and it had nothing to do with Luna! In fact, I think I need to tell her- tell her that I may not be strictly into the opposite sex as well…” Harry tried not to think about the sharp intake of breath from the direction of the bookcase. 

Ginny sniffed.

"I really appreciate it, Harry. Thank you." She gave him a watery smile. 

Harry's chest ached. Ginny was not a crier, but this had evidently hurt her a lot.

Luna gave Ginny a tight squeeze before saying, "I think I'm the only one left now. I've wanted to tell you guys about this ages ago, and I've already discussed it with Gin obviously, but I have never felt much like a female. I don't think I'm anything. I'm just- I'm just me. I don't know what the word for this is. I just feel weird being perceived as a woman but I don't think I feel like a man either. I just feel like- like nothing. I’m not certain what I want to do about it, but I wanted you to know."

Hermione gazed at Luna thoughtfully.

"I think I've heard of that before in the muggle world and definitely in Wizarding history. There are potions that can make you look more androgynous if you would like me to look them up for you! I can also find the specific word for what you're experiencing!"

Luna blinked. 

Ron shook his head, looking bemused.

"I don't understand what you mean by that, but you're my friend no matter what gender you are!" he declared loudly.

Luna blushed.

Harry nodded.

"I second that. You're still you and have always been you and that will always be enough."

Luna burst into tears.


	11. Maybe Heaven is a Place on Earth

Severus perched himself on the counter, his wings brushing against the smooth wood of the kitchen cabinets.

"That was… quite an insightful session, wasn't it?" he said, slowly, seemingly unable to meet Harry’s eyes. 

Harry nodded, trying not to give away his disappointment. Severus probably thought he was a freak now. 

"Oh, definitely. But I'm sure you knew everything they were going to say, didn't you?"

"And then some. But yes, I did know what they were going to say." Severus fiddled around with a knife he had spotted on the counter. “I did not know what you were going to say, though.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, watching those long pale fingers twisting the knife around. It was rather mesmerizing. How had he never noticed how beautiful Severus's hands were?

He mentally shook himself, sternly reminding his traitorous brain that Severus could read minds literally.

"It was nice, though. All of us sitting like that again. Talking and helping each other. I missed that," Harry said softly, realizing as he said it that it was true. He tried to ignore the hint to his revelation.

"I thought you might feel like that," said Severus, grinning at him. 

Harry no longer found Severus's smile disconcerting, although it did seem to do rather odd things to his gut.

Severus suddenly hopped off the counter.

"Dammit, I want to fly. I'm so tired of being stuck on ground when I have fucking wings!"

Harry stared at him, then smacked a hand to his forehead.

"I'm such an idiot! I'm a wizard! I have a broomstick somewhere! I know I brought one to this apartment. I'm so sorry that I didn't think of it before."

Severus smirked.

"I sometimes still doubt if you are capable of thinking at all."

Harry rolled his eyes, unable to hold back a smile.

"You're still a git, huh?"

Severus nodded, his eyes gleaming.

"And proud. Let's go shed some kilometers."

********************

Harry knew the instant he was up in the air, with the wind whistling through his hair and his cloak flapping in the breeze, that putting away his broomstick had been a big mistake. Perhaps he would instead pursue a career as an international Quidditch player like Ginny, or teach flying lessons at Hogwarts. That reminded him that perhaps he should take up McGonagall's annual request to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

The future suddenly seemed to have so many possibilities.

Harry marveled at how much clearer his mind felt. It was as if some sort of fog had lifted and suddenly he could see a path before him again.

He hadn't realized just how listless and directionless he had become.

Severus soared past him, wings whipping up a breeze as he raced towards the stars.

It was an exceptionally clear spring night.

Harry sped up till he was side by side with Severus as he coasted on a warm current of air. "Hey, Sev!"

Severus turned his head to look at Harry, his eyes rather wistful.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Have you been reading my thoughts lately?"

Severus shook his head.

"I didn't even mean to listen to your friends' thoughts. It was an accident. I wouldn't do it to you on purpose."

Harry looked up at the sparkling stars like so many scattered diamonds.

"I wanted to thank you. I- I don't think I'm perfectly better and that I won't relapse but I think you saved me from a much worse fate."

Harry felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, I'm here for you as long as you need me." Harry looked back at Severus, his heart full. The moonlight cast a silver glow onto Severus's raven locks and feathers. He looked ridiculously angelic.

"What if that's forever?" Harry said quietly, knowing that he was betraying his feelings. 

Severus's dark eyes seemed to glitter in the starlight.

"I would be fine with that," he whispered after a few heart-rending seconds, sliding his hand off Harry's shoulder and onto Harry's hand.

Harry gripped his broomstick very tightly. He was hyper aware of how little space was now between them.

He leaned forward, his heart thrumming with nerves, hoping against hope that he wasn't completely misreading the signs, or perhaps even speaking a different language. 

Severus stared into Harry's open, trusting face, always so simple and honest, and closed the space between their lips with a sigh of contentment.

Maybe this was heaven after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudos and comments are very much appreciated!   
> This was written for the Snape BigBang 2020. It's a bit late but there's been a lot going on so I'm just glad to have completed it.   
> P.S. This fic is not trying to say that only "love" and "friendship" can save someone from depression, although it can definitely help. Please remember that if you're feeling depressed or suicidal, there's many places to get help and needing medication or therapy is NOT a bad thing.   
> Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy.  
> Love you all <3


End file.
